The Apocalypse of Oz
by DaisyErina
Summary: Dorothea has landed in a new world full of death and decay. The little munchkins seem cute and cuddly until they're biting your ankles off... Can Dorothea stop the apocalypse and save Oz?
1. There's No Place like Apocalyptica

**The Apocalypse of Oz**

 **A/N:** I recently read my "Definitely Not in Kansas Anymore" story and while I had some good ideas, I didn't like the writing style. It was written in the middle of my writing's maturing so I really wanted to re-write it. I then decided to make it kind of a twisted fairy tale and make it dangerous instead of romantic.

 **1: There's No Place like Apocalyptica**

Dorothea let out a groan of displeasure as she came to. Slowly opening her eyes, she pushed herself up with her hands, finding that the source of her discomfort had been landing face-down on a mound of gravel. Some smaller rocks had stuck into the heels of her hands and bigger ones made imprints in her skin. With another groan she sat up, tucking her legs beneath her, and looked around.

This was definitely not her hometown. You couldn't tell how the town was meant to look, given that almost all the buildings had collapsed and the road was ripped up. The air smelled of mold and decay, and Dorothea could swear there was blood on the dying leaves barely hanging on to the trees.

She stood on shaky legs and looked down at herself, wondering how badly she'd been hurt. The tornado that uprooted her house had flown her quite a ways away, apparently. Nothing seemed familiar. She definitely wasn't in the same town – probably not even the same state.

She brushed off some dirt and rubble, leaving behind a few smeared dirt stains on her dress. It was originally a royal blue, but now a faded blue-grey. The white button-up shirt she wore beneath her dress hadn't fared well either, now torn at the sleeves and dusted with dirt. Both of her knees had been skinned in her evident fall, peeled skin and dried blood obvious on both legs. Her black leather boots survived, having been thick enough to rebel against the rocks and rubble. Holding up her hands, she saw small lacerations and lots of peeled skin and bruises. She mused that she must have tried to break her fall with her hands. She reached up to re-braid her hair, finding that it was now frizzy and tangled. The wind from the tornado had twisted her and her hair this way and that. Wincing slightly, she combed through her long brown locks with her fingers, trying to smooth it out enough to retie the braids.

Having secured them, she took a tentative step forward, glad that her legs were strong enough to carry her. She didn't want to venture too far into this broken land, in case whatever broke it was still around. She couldn't hear any sounds that indicated someone was home, but perhaps they had seen her fall and were just being exceptionally quiet.

"Who are you?" a high-pitched voice called. Dorothea froze and turned on her heel, coming to face a middle aged woman in a pink dress. It appeared as though it was once a fancy ball gown, but it had been ripped in whatever occurrence destroyed the town. Her curly red locks seemed in place, held down by a sparkly pink tiara. Dorothea wondered if she was some sort of princess.

"Dorothea," she replied, furrowing her brows as she noticed the pink lady holding a sparkly wand. "Who are you?"

"Gizelle," the other answered. "The Good Witch of the North. How did you get here?"

"A tornado uplifted my house and threw me here." Dorothea paused to turn and point to where she had awoken. "There's what's left of my house."

"And what's left of the Wicked Witch…" Gizelle whispered, slowly stepping closer to the rubble. Dorothea turned to see what she was talking about, finding a small green hand holding a simple black wand. Gizelle bent down and plucked it from the deceased witch's hand, turning back to Dorothea.

"You killed the Wicked Witch," she said softly with a hint of a smile.

"Is that a good thing?" Dorothea asked, eyes darting between Gizelle and the want.

"Oh, yes," Gizelle replied, clearly relieved. "You have saved Munchkin Land from a great threat."

"Is that what this place was?" Dorothea inquired. "Munchkin Land?"

Gizelle nodded sadly. "It was once a happy place, full of life and color. The munchkins are a very lively people. They never harm anyone. They stay out of other's way."

"Why was the Witch targeting them then?"

"The Witch targets everyone who's not on her side." Gizelle walked past Dorothea and sat on a broken sidewalk. "The munchkins were all about good and kindness, while the Witch wanted to take over the land with her dark evil. I usually managed to help them, drive the Witch away. But she and her sister finally got to them."

"Her sister?" Dorothea questioned, sitting beside Gizelle.

"The Witch you killed was the Wicked Witch of the East. She has a sister; the Wicked Witch of the West. She's much worse. More power and more spite. She'll come after you for killing her sister."

"What did she do to Munchkin Land? It looks completely destroyed."

Gizelle sighed sadly. The Wicked Witches decided to create an apocalypse. They infected every last munchkin; turned them into zombies. They all began attacking each other and every single resident of Munchkin Land. They even came after me, but I used my magic to escape. Once they realized there was no one left to eat, they got bored and began destroying things. Houses were ripped apart, they smashed the sidewalk, set fire to most of the plant life. It's a disaster area."

"Are they still around?" Dorothea wondered, looking around cautiously. "I didn't hear anything, but it doesn't seem like they'd just go away."

"They've ventured off into other parts of the land," Gizelle explained. She pointed down to the cracked and faded yellow bricks littering the ground. "That used to be the Yellow Brick Road, and it leads to every part of this world. It can take you all the way to Emerald City and the Wizard of Oz. I'm sure they're on their way to corrupt him, too."

"The Wizard of Oz?"

"He's a powerful man, and a good one too. He tried to save Oz when the Witches first began their scheme. But they sent their flying monkeys after him to keep him quiet. I haven't heard a word from him since."

Dorothea's head was spinning. "What flying monkeys?"

"Originally, it was just the Wicked Witches trying to take over. They're powerful, but they didn't have a following. So they created mutant money creatures with large wings to do their bidding. Those little monsters follow everything the Witches tell them. They're the reason no one can escape from Oz."

Dorothea leaned back against the broken water fountain behind her, letting out a breath. Zombies, Wicked Witches, and flying monkeys? What kind of world was this? She needed to get home… But this world was clearly in danger, and it didn't seem like she would be able to get home unless something got fixed.

She turned to Gizelle with a serious face. "How can I help?"

Gizelle's eyes widened slightly before excitement took over. She held out her hand, offering Dorothea the black wand. "Take this. It belonged to the Wicked Witch of the East. It has all of her powers, so the Witch of the West will try and take it. Don't ever let it out of your possession. It's your only defense against her."

She stood up and placed her hand on the brunette's shoulders, pulling her up as well. Her emerald green eyes gazed into Dorothea's chocolate brown, conveying hope, fear, and admiration. "Follow what's left of the Yellow Brick Road. Follow it all the way to the Emerald City. As I said, the Wizard is a powerful man. He can help you. Between the two of you, I'm sure you can stop the Wicked Witch, especially now that there's only one."

She pulled Dorothea into a quick hug before pulling back. "Beware of the munchkins. I'm sure they're scattered all over the land by now. When the Witches infected them, they became her minions. They'll try to stop you."

Dorothea nodded and turned towards the Yellow Brick Road, steeling herself for the journey ahead. As she began walking, Gizelle called her name. She turned around with a brow raised.

Gizelle stood with a small smile on her pink lips. "The Land of Oz thanks you. Good luck."


	2. If I Only Had a Braaaiiin

**Disclaimer:** So I forgot to add one in the first chapter. I think. I don't own _Wizard of Oz_ or any of its characters. I only own the idea and this representation.

 **2\. If I Only Had a Braaaiiin**

Dorothea ventured carefully down the Yellow Brick Road, having to take larger steps here and there to avoid potholes or upturned bricks. The Witch's wand was clutched tightly in her hand, though she had no idea how to use it. She kept her guard up, turning her head this way and that, keeping her eyes open for any zombie munchkins. It occurred to her that she had no way of fighting the zombie munchkins unless simply pointing the black wand at them would do the job. Though, she mused, it might. It did belong to a Wicked Witch, and she did originally target the little munchkins, so she actually had a fighting chance of using it against them.

A low whimper from a bush to the right caught Dorothea's attention. She turned on her heel and extended the wand, unsure of what she was preparing for, but preparing nonetheless. She let out a sigh of relief when a black ball of fur came running out from the bundle of leaves.

"Good boy, Toto," she said with a soft smile, bending down to scratch the black Newfoundland behind the ears. He was only a year old but the top of his head reached her waist when he stood up. He let out a happy bark and rubbed against her hand, glad to be reunited.

The pair continued walking when a low groan came from the left. It sounded dark and menacing, and Dorothea wondered if it was already time to fight the zombies. Turning she found what appeared to be a scarecrow, nailed to a wooden post in a cornfield. What caught her attention was the baseball sticking out of his head, still dripping with fresh blood.

Musing that she needed a better weapon than a magical stick, she slowly ventured into the field with Toto at her side. He let out a bark before growling at the figure that, so far, hadn't moved. Dorothea reached up and pulled, dislodging the bat from the figure's head. It let out a displeased grunt as the bat was moved, causing Dorothea to jump back in surprise. She shook the bat a little to shake off some of the excess blood, which was now dripping heavily down the figure's head. She then noticed the rusty nails sticking out from the bat at awkward angles.

"Help…" it groaned. Looking closer, Dorothea discovered that it wasn't a proper scarecrow. It had once been a man, brutally butchered. He had been cut up and crudely sewn back together, stuffed with straw as much as he could be. The bat to the head must have been the cause of death, though the cause of reanimation couldn't be confirmed.

"Help?" she questioned. She walked around to the back of the post and found the nails keeping the man attached. Long nails pierced through his skin and clothes to keep him secured to the wood. Rain and time had worn down the wood, and it was barely holding together. She pushed against it, breaking it apart and letting the nails fall out, taking the scarecrow-man down with them.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Ughhh…" he grunted, offering her a small nod. He reached up and grasped an ear of corn, using it to pull himself to his feet. He nodded again as a thank you before tilting his head. Dorothea only wondered if it was an inquisitive gesture or a lack of control over his neck muscles.

"I'm supposed to find the Wizard," she explained, watching as his eyes widened. "Do you want to come along?"

He nodded again, more excitedly.

"Promise you won't get in the way?" she asked.

Again, he nodded. Dorothea turned to Toto, who had ceased his growling. With a breath, she gripped the bat and continued down the Yellow Brick Road.


	3. If I Only Had a Heeaarrghhh

**3\. If I Only Had a Heeaarrghhh**

Dorothea continued walking, the black wand clutched tightly in one hand and the bloodied nailed baseball bat in the other. Toto guarded her right side while the Scarecrow, which Dorothea had begun calling him because she had no way of learning his proper name, stumbled on her left. He walked rather well for someone who was butchered and left to die nailed to a wooden post. He hadn't managed to form many words, most of his responses being head tilts and low grunts, but he hadn't tried to hurt Dorothea or Toto, so she continued letting him tag along.

As they passed a forest of what used to be apple trees, her stomach began to rumble. She wished the apples were still juicy and fresh rather than the shriveled, discolored lumps that they were now. Dozens of them littered the ground, giving the whole forest a rotten smell. What used to be red apples were now a dark brown and what used to be green were now a dark yellow. Dorothea fought her gag reflex as they passed the foul-smelling forest, making their way down what was left of the Yellow Brick Road.

She repeatedly wondered what Munchkin Land and the rest of Oz looked like before the Witches destroyed it. She mused that it was pretty and lively, and didn't at all smell like mold and death.

A flash of silver caught her eye and she ventured to the right. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that what caught her attention had been a mechanic leg. She stepped around it, spotting another metal leg and a metal arm, all attached to a human-looking man. His face and torso were bloody and torn, and it didn't look like he was any better off than the Scarecrow. Dorothea gently kicked at one of the legs, earning a low groan in response. She jumped back slightly, still unused to what was supposed to be dead making noises. It mumbled something through barely-open lips, and Dorothea had to kneel down to understand it.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Oil can," the man murmured.

"Oil can?" she repeated in confusion, looking around. She spotted a small oil can sitting on a stump a few feet away, so she stepped around the man to grab it. She took a guess and began squirting oil into the creases of each mechanical limb, and the man groaned again. He began sitting up, with some help from Dorothea.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"Wicked Witch," the man replied. Dorothea guessed that he wasn't a zombie, but she wondered what his story was. She helped him stand before asking.

"I was just a woodsman," he explained, sitting on a stump. "I would trim hedges and chop trees when they got too big. All was well. One day, I was really tired from working, but I wasn't done yet. I didn't have my usual strength, so when I tried to swing my axe down," Dorothea had just noticed the bloody, rusty axe held in the man's human arm, "I cut off my own hand by mistake." He lifted his left arm, wiggling his metal fingers.

"The Wicked Witch found me and promised to give me a new hand if I would work for her. At first I refused, but what good is a woodsman with only one arm? I reluctantly agreed, and she made me this hand and magically infused it with my arm so it would work just like a natural hand. What I didn't know was that she jinxed my axe, so I cut off more body parts than tree branches. She knew that I would have to keep going back to her for new limbs, so as long as I needed help, she had her own personal assistant."

"What did she want you to do?" Dorothea asked.

"Not much," the man replied. "Mostly spying. She wanted me to keep tabs on Gizelle and the munchkins; let her know when the town was weakest or if anyone was plotting against her."

"So what happened…?" Dorothea gestured to her own face.

He nodded. "I told her I didn't want to work for her anymore. I had quit being a woodsman, so I would stop cutting off my own body parts. She didn't like my disloyalty and sent her stupid monkeys after me. Those bastards have sharp claws. They tore at whatever they could reach and left me here to die."

"That's awful," the brunette replied. "Well… we're heading to see the Wizard. I want to go home, and if I can, I'd like to save Oz on my way."

"Can I join?" the man asked. "You can have my axe. I don't think it's jinxed anymore. I want nothing more than to get revenge on that damned Witch."

"Sure," Dorothea nodded. "I could use extra help."

"I have to warn you, though," the man said as he hobbled away from the forest. "When the Witch claimed me as her minion, she took away my heart. I don't feel very many emotions anymore. The only thing fueling me right now is the magic in my metal and my hatred for the witch. I won't turn on you without reason, but if things get dark like you get attacked, I may not help, either."

"Well, warning is nice," Dorothea countered. She considered her options and decided that a hatred-fueled metal man would make a decent sidekick since his anger was aimed at the Wicked Witch. "What's your name?"

"Tim," he replied.

"Tim the Tin Man," she smirked. "Welcome to the team, Tim."


End file.
